Bad Hands of Tokyo
by Strawberry Moonshine
Summary: Kenshin, living in modern-day Tokyo, is wearing a suit and tie. But not for the reasons you might suspect... AU K/B x K


**Title:** Bad Hands of Tokyo

**Author:** Strawberry Moonshine

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Kenshin/Battousai x Kaoru

**Description:** Kenshin, living in modern-day Tokyo, is wearing a suit and tie. But not for the reasons you might suspect...

The standard disclaimer applies.

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I down yet another cup of sake, feeling the heat spread luxuriously throughout my body, and wonder for the umpteenth time why I allowed my best friend to drag me here tonight. Again.

Out of the numerous establishments available to us in this district, we are always drawn here--and that is saying something considering that _everything_ is absolutely drowned in flickering neon lights and pulsing with upbeat music. Even so, I can't put my finger on what is so special about The Akabeko. It definitely isn't the red paper-mache cows that decorate the inside and outside, nor the traditional Japanese theme of the restaurant. For my friend it is undoubtedly the wait staff; Megumi, in particular, attracts him like a moth to a flame. In fact I believe she has literally set him on fire a few times due to his 'curiosity'.

"One more round, Kenshin. Whaddya say?"

Sanosuke is kneeling across from me on the opposite side of the low wooden table, grinning stupidly and smoothing back spiky brown hair that is even more unruly than usual. It is in stark contrast to his impeccable suit which is entirely black, save the white button-down shirt that is only partially visible underneath. His getup matches mine precisely except that my tie is still perfect and he loosened his five or six shots ago.

"I think you've had enough, Sano," I announce with a grimace. I roll my eyes as his bottom lip juts out pathetically, the mere beginnings of his fabled drunken puppy dog face.

"Awww, come on," Sano whines as his sake cup clatters onto the table. I could swear that his eyes are watering already and usually he doesn't get to that point for at least another two minutes. "You're such a party pooper sometimes!"

"I don't deny it," I respond, my voice even. I am accustomed to his childish temper tantrums, especially in public places, and refuse to acknowledge several diners who are beginning to observe us. "Unlike you, who won't admit anything... especially your alcohol problem."

"I do _not_ have a problem," he retorts, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He wobbles a bit and loses his balance, falling out of his kneeling position and landing on his backside. I smirk as he scrambles to sit back up, placing his hands on either side of his cushion this time in order to retain stability.

"_Obviously_," I say, not bothering to disguise my sarcastic tone.

"Shut up, Kenshin," Sano growls at me, his face flushed.

"I'm not saying anything."

"You just did."

"Only because you spoke to me."

"But it still counts."

"..."

"Kenshin, why are you so quiet?"

"... God damn it, Sano."

I clench my right fist and at that very moment, Megumi makes her way to our table. Unbeknownst to her she has just rescued Sano from getting his face pounded in. Had she been aware of my violent intentions, I'm sure she would have hesitated a few moments before checking on us. Not only would she love to witness a bruised Sano but she'd also enjoy having Tae banish us for brawling.

"The Roosterhead is plastered again, isn't he," Megumi deadpans and shakes her head disapprovingly. Ignoring him, she lowers gracefully to her knees and asks me, "Ready for your check, Ken?"

Typical Megumi. She is clad in a vibrant red kimono and wooden geta, as is required for all waitresses, and her long ebony hair is pulled up rather elaborately with several golden pins forced through it. She has disliked Sano ever since the first time he and I dined at the Akabeko, mainly because he dubbed her "Fox" within the first five minutes. Then she immediately took a liking to me and it's been that way ever since: Sano vying for Megumi's attention; Megumi avoiding him and flirting with me instead.

"Yes, please," I reply, anxious to depart. I am beginning to feel somewhat uninhibited after ingesting such copious amounts of sake and want to leave with my dignity--or what I have left of it after being in Sano's company for an extended period of time.

"Oh, so soon?" Megumi fixates her chocolate-colored gaze on me and winks sensually, causing mascara-laden lashes to briefly caress her ivory cheek. "I truly hate to see you leave, Ken, although I can't say the same for him." She gestures distastefully toward Sano who has apparently dozed off for several moments and I throw him a sideways glance, hoping that isn't drool I see on his chin.

"Why you..," he threatens, coming to his senses and leering drowsily at her. They are teasing each other and not sincerely angry, I know, but that doesn't stop the other customers from gaping. "Let me tell you something, _Fox_..."

"No, let me tell _you_ something, _Rooster_," she interrupts, keeping her voice low. Where most women raise their voices while chiding someone, Megumi always manages to sound menacing when speaking barely above a whisper. "First of all, you have drool on your chin. Secondly, you need to cut down on the drinking. It's not good for you and I won't be surprised if you need a liver transplant soon."

"Don't let Tae hear you say that, Fox. She'd be pissed if I stopped coming here just because you told me to cut down. This is the only place I ever drink." He smirks, wiping his chin on his sleeve and winking slyly all in the same breath. Megumi recoils and scoots closer to me. "Besides, I don't drink near enough to worry about something as serious as that, right Kenshin?"

Both of them look at me expectantly. No matter how desperately I try to stay out of their little squabbles, they always manage to drag me into it one way or another. This time it seems like participation is inevitable as well, but I merely shrug instead of picking a side. I don't want to see the aftermath of _that_ battle.

"Fine, suit yourselves and don't listen to me." She sighs and rises carefully to her feet, staring down at us with annoyance. "I'm just a doctor in training, that's all." She rolls her eyes haughtily and stalks off, presumably in search of our check.

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Twenty minutes later finds me helping Sano's sorry ass down the street. Actually, he is leaning so heavily onto me that I might as well be carrying him. Until now I have never been so thankful for his apartment's proximity to The Akabeko. I am panting and nearly blind (due to countless encounters with neon lights) by the time we finish covering the last of the three blocks.

"Alright, you're on your own from here," I announce, prying his bulky arm from around my shoulders. We are standing in front of his very ordinary apartment building and all I know is that I don't feel like dragging him up the stairs. There is no way in hell.

"I can make it," he groans sleepily, pounding me on the back none-too-gently with his fist. "See ya later, Kenshin."

"Later, Sano," I call as he flings open the front door and disappears inside. I know what is going through his head at this very moment_--'Man, I'm never drinking this much again'_--but rest assured, he will be heavily intoxicated at least once before next week is over.

Pivoting on my heel, I head in the direction of the complex's parking lot where I left my car earlier in the afternoon. I can't help but crack a smile when I spot it amongst the other vehicles; it is brand new and I bought it two weeks before. Although it's just a black Honda sedan and not a Ferrari or something of that sort, I think it's great--simple, sleek, and even equipped with a navigation system. In hindsight I should have driven it to The Akabeko but since it was a short distance and the traffic was slow, we had decided to walk instead. It was probably to my advantage anyway, considering that the walk back to Sano's has sobered me up and I have a feeling that the night isn't over yet.

Sure enough, my cell phone vibrates in my pocket as soon as I start the engine. I lift it to eye-level to confirm the number before answering even though I already know who it is--the only person who ever calls me at 2:30 AM. I hit the speaker button and set the phone on the console while I search my pockets for a pack of cigarettes.

"Yeah Hiko," I say blandly.

"You're supposed to call me _boss_, Kenshin. Where the hell are you?" asks the gruff voice on the other end. It sounds like he rolled out of bed ten minutes ago.

"Leaving Sano's. Why? Did something come up?" I'm hoping he'll say no but he never calls unless it's important or he's insanely drunk. Come to think of it, I am surrounded by drunks.

"The _shipment_ arrived earlier than I planned and I'm short-handed. Not many of you answer your fucking phones at this time of night," he barks, exasperated.

"Can't say I blame them," I mutter, placing a cigarette between my lips and lighting it. I watch tendrils of white smoke float lazily to the roof of the car before cracking the windows open a few inches, allowing them to escape. A cool, fresh autumn breeze drifts in and I inhale leisurely, thinking absent-mindedly that I am polluting the clean air. Then I imagine that billions of other people in the world are doing the same at this exact moment and I no longer care. Hell, Saitou probably has three of the things stuck in his mouth right now, smoking like a chimney and yelling 'Fuck the ozone!' I nearly chuckle at the picture in my head.

"Quit being a smartass and get over here, Kenshin," Hiko grumbles after several moments of silence. I almost forgot he was on the phone. And now he isn't, because I heard the line go dead.

Taking a long drag of my cigarette and wishing I could drive home and sleep, I pull out of the dingy parking lot. The clock on the dash says 2:45 AM and the sky looks dark and ominous but people show no signs of heading home--not that it's surprising. People are constantly entering and exiting the endless varieties of clubs whenever I drive by, no matter how late it is. Even if the world comes to an end right now we will still be holed up in bars playing pachinko and drinking sake. I wouldn't have Tokyo any other way.

By the time I reach headquarters I have just extinguished my cigarette in the ashtray; it is a mere five minutes from Sano's. My condo is nearby as well, as are the residences of several other associates. We make an effort to stay relatively close so we will always be available. But then again, it doesn't matter if you are around or not if you don't answer your phone when the boss calls.

Our building is easy to spot and Hiko makes no attempts to camouflage it. It is out in the open on a busy street and if that isn't obvious enough, there is even a wooden sign hanging next to the door. In kanji it proclaims, "INAGAWA-KAI" with our crest underneath. There is a large lot to park in behind the building which is somewhat concealed and much more secretive.

I drive slowly into the aforementioned lot, being careful not to run over anything in the dark. Almost immediately my headlights illuminate several men who peer at me through the windshield; they recognize me in seconds. I've barely parked the car when a narrow face appears in my peripheral vision and I open the door.

"Ah, Battousai," he says, dipping his sharp chin in greeting.

He is one of the few who, I suspect, will never cease to call me by my old nickname. He has one as well although it's strange to go around calling someone a wolf. It was given to him because of his appearance, his ferocity, and the massive tattoo that was recently completed on his body.

"Saitou," I respond simply as I climb out of my car and lock the door behind me. I notice somewhat regretfully that he is smoking one single cigarette and not three.

"The boss is at it again." He grins wolfishly and takes a long pull of his cigarette, golden eyes glinting.

"More abducted women?" I ask hesitantly.

"What _shipment_ did you think he was talking about?" He exhales slowly and smoke spirals about his face in the gloom.

"Wonderful," I sigh, pocketing my car keys and adjusting my tie. Saitou is suspiciously silent and I know he is preparing to make a biting comment.

"Thirteen years and you're still not accustomed to it. We are _Yakuza_, Battousai, in case you forgot."

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**A/N:** Thank you for reading. I put a lot of work into this first chapter and I'm dying to know what people think.

I need to touch on a couple of things really quick: I do not live in Japan and I have never been there, although I have tried to read plenty about Tokyo and the Yakuza. Obviously this is a fictional work so I'm not killing myself to be accurate, and I'm sure I will twist things to make this story work if I haven't already. It's all in fun.

By the way, the title comes from the meaning of the word Yakuza. They are the "bad hands of society," like being dealt a bad hand in a game of cards.

That being said, _please_ review! I will respond to all reviews in the following chapter. Thanks!

xoxo


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